TW: Mild blood/injury

Jean-Luc woke, still believing he was in a dream, opening his eyes to Beverly beside him. During the night someone had come and given them blankets. Kind of them, Jean-Luc thought, focusing again on his partner.

She looked at blissful peace there, their hands still joined between them. With his free one he ran his palm over his scalp. His hair was still there! It wasn't much of a surprise that he hoped they wouldn't try to change them, or at least him, back to his former appearance.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he started to notice something… wrong. Red spots oozed in places through Beverly's sweater.

"Doctor!" Jean-Luc raised his voice. Beverly awoke with a start. "Nurse!"

They ran in as he was sitting up, carefully removing the blanket off of the baffled Beverly.

"Oh my," she breathed in exclamation at the red patches. The glove she found fine. Touching her good hand to her jawline where one welt was exposed, she winched and drew the hand away, the fingers with a thin red sheen of blood. "Damn!"

The medical officers buzzed around her, removing the pyjama shirt and applying more dermal regenerators to the patches. Once again, Jean-Luc turned away to give her privacy.

"Sleep well?" Will asked, stepping in with Deanna. They were surprised by the kerfuffle that was starting to calm around Beverly.

"Burns with ionic radiation," Beverly explained over her shoulder, winching. "Not a good mix." They were about to get her back in a sickbay standard pyjama shirt when she shook her head. "Can I have one of my sweaters?" she requested. The three medical staff remaining held brief conference before permitting her the wish. A replicator glow later, Beverly was turning back around with an oversized blue sweater hanging off one shoulder. The quiet hiss of a hypospray for the pain, and they were left alone, Deanna and Will shepherded out to talk with the medical staff. "I wonder why they've had us in pretty much isolation this entire time," Beverly murmured, gazing at the door.

"Perhaps we absorbed ionic radiation?" Jean-Luc suggested, plumping up some pillows. He carefully stacked them. "Here, lie down."

"I thought we were still off duty, even though shore leave will have to wait," she sighed. "Once a captain, always a captain?"

"Beverly, your body needs time to heal. You have to rest. And don't tell me you aren't itching to get a tricorder and scan us both right this minute," he pointed out.

She acquiesced, laying on the cushions. He sat back on his. With a cheeky grin, she drew his arm around her, "I have to keep reminding myself that I selected my sickbay crew for a reason. It's so cold." She curled up against him. Cold? He wondered. He didn't feel particularly cold. Was that why she had requested her sweater? She closed her eyes. "I'm glad I've got you, Jean-Luc," she murmured. He delicately took her gloved hand, setting it on his chest. She smiled.

"You always had me," he whispered, leaning forward to softly kiss the top of her head.

"Why did you wait?" His brow furrowed. "Why did you wait all these years?"

Because I was twice your age, it would have been inappropriate.
Because you were in love with Jack and I didn't want to hurt him, or you.
Because I was… am afraid you'll say no.
Because I knew you didn't need me, you are so strong.
Because I didn't know if you wanted me.
Because you have always seemed too good to be true.
Because I never did anything to deserve you.
Because I wanted to respect your space after Jack died.
Because I was responsible for what happened...

"I don't know," he breathed. Liar, her thoughts melted into his, like honey running through the inside of his head. "Sorry, I didn't mean for you to hear that."

We're older now, it isn't inappropriate anymore.
Jack would have wanted Wesley to have grown up with a father – he was scared of Wesley growing up without him. He would have thanked you for taking Wesley in as your own.
We will always be friends, nothing could ever change that.
I am strong, but being a single mother was lonely.
I have always loved your company. I have always loved you.
I keep my scars hidden deep, Jean-Luc. You are the only person I have ever let glimpse many of them.
Why should you have to do something, defeat some dragon, complete some quest, to be part of my life?
Respect my space? You disappeared for ten years! It was like I had lost both of you. The stab of pain from this memory wasn't quelled by the intensity of the blocks Beverly had put up. He could hear only what she let him.

"There is a great difference between being responsible and to blame, Jean-Luc," Beverly murmured. "I had a hard time learning it as well." Silence settled between them like a comfortable friend, the beeps of the machines, faint hum of the air ventilation, soft vibration of the warp core if they concentrated hard enough.

Only when he believed she had gone to sleep did he whisper, "Why are you afraid?" It was so quiet, as soon as the words were gone, he wondered if he had spoken at all.

It hurt so much losing you and Jack. I don't know if I could bear losing you again.

It's my fault.

For disappearing? Yes. Yes, Jean-Luc, that is your fault!

He looked down at his chest as he felt the wetness of her tears seep through his shirt. She sniffled.

"I'm sorry, Beverly." If you want, I swear, I'll never leave again. He lowered his head to kiss her crown, holding his head there.

"God, haven't you been paying attention!" she tearfully exclaimed with a small laugh. Nestled against his side, Beverly finally drifted to sleep, Jean-Luc watching her, holding her to his side.

Side by side
They'd nearly died
His stubbornness could have marked
Her body forever beneath a grave
Beside her mother, grandmother, father, husband
Jack
His stubbornness could have marked
Her son, Wesley, close to death
A stupid old man with wasted breath
His stubbornness could have marked
Stains spread across the floor
Begging for no more
Pleading for some escape
But at this rate
His stubbornness had marked
Handprints upon her heart
Proudly on her sleeve
He hadn't known he lived in shadows until she showed him the light
Burning bright
Turning back, it was all so dark
He wandered back
Back into the light

A/N: The tw for mild blood/injury will also be on some further chapters.

What do you think of the little poem at the end? It's something I like to experiment with sometimes. Let me know in reviews! (please do leave reviews, I love reviews, it's awesome to have people interacting with stuff I write!)

Thank you Erica & Guest for your kind reviews! As for whether mornings dawn, I suppose the ship would gradually stir with more people working during day hours on the ship with a skeleton crew on night rotation.

I hope you all have a lovely day!